


Ordinary People

by writeskatelive



Category: Figure Skating - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Olympics, figure skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 15:31:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19065460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeskatelive/pseuds/writeskatelive
Summary: A year ago, everything was going smoothly for Evgenia Tarasova and Vladimir Morozov. They were madly in love, they were winning all their competitions, and they were looking forward to proudly competing at the Olympics under the Russian flag, with their coach and their teammates at their side.A lot can change in a year.---This is just a short story I wrote one day; it's set on the day of the opening ceremonies of the 2018 Olympics.





	Ordinary People

"We're just ordinary people, maybe we should take it slow." - John Legend

 

Zhenya zipped up her plain white jacket and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her smooth blonde hair was pulled back neatly, her makeup was carefully applied, and she was wearing her best pair of diamond earrings. If she had been allowed to wear a real jacket instead of this rubbish, she would've been pleased with her look for the opening ceremony.

If a lot of things had been allowed here, she would've been pleased with these Olympics in general.

It had started back in December, when the International Olympic Committee banned the use of the Russian flag and marked all Russian athletes as "neutral". Supposedly, it would crack down on the doping issues that had shown up at the last Olympics, but it seemed more like a political grudge against Russia in general. Shaken from the news, Zhenya and Vova had skated terribly at the Grand Prix Final, which was often a preview of who would win the Olympics. Lately, they'd been struggling with their short program, and it was a universally acknowledged truth that their free program (complete with polka dots and Christina Aguilera) was a #fail. And because that wasn't fun enough, their training mates Ksu and Fedya had been banned from the Olympics without even an explanation.

Their coach, whose health was already delicate, was on the verge of a heart attack.

Zhenya's throat tightened. Since she was a little girl, she had watched the Olympics on TV. Amazing performances. Tears of joy. Smiles everywhere. A place where everyone could be proud of their country. A place where everyone HAD a country.

A second face in the mirror made her jump. Vova, tall and freckled, wearing a jacket identical to hers, was standing in the doorway.

"Vova," she said, turning around. He was running a self-conscious hand through his ginger hair, not meeting her eyes.

She tried to smile, but he did not smile back.

"Are you ready?" he said.

"Yeah." She was surprised by the apathy in her own voice. "Are you?"

"I think so." He stepped inside and closed the door with a soft click. "I guess it's just...it's not how you picture the Olympics."

"I know." Zhenya ran her hand along the zipper of her jacket. "I don't know what to say."

"It just feels weird. It's like getting ready for a wedding, but when you show up at the church, you find out it's actually a funeral. When Tanya and Max talked about it, they made it sound like it'd be the biggest, happiest day of our lives."

"Things were different back then." Her voice was small.

Vova let out a heavy sigh. "Well, I don't like it. We didn't do anything wrong. We've never tested positive in our lives, but here we are in these white jackets, like we're a bunch of convicts!"

She swallowed. The same thoughts had been running through her mind for weeks, but instead she said, "I guess we should just be grateful we're allowed to compete. Ksu and Fedya..."

"Don't remind me. Fedya texted me a couple hours ago. He said we should enjoy what we can and carry on like it's a normal Olympics." He slammed his fist down on the dresser. "I don't even want to go tonight. I don't want to be part of this stupid farce. I just want to find whoever did this and...punch them. I shouldn't want that, but I do. Because it's hurting you. I can see it, even if you're trying to hide it. I know you too well, Zhenya."

She frowned. Since December, she had been trying to just keep her head low and go along with all the craziness. With Ksu crying all the time, Nina Mikhailovna pacing around in a frenzy, and Vova constantly frustrated, she figured there was no use complaining. Someone had to be the smiling face. And it had to be her. It was always her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I was trying not to show it."

He sighed. "That's the problem. You always think you have to be the ray of sunshine for everyone else. You're human, Zhenya. You don't have to carry the whole team when stuff like this happens."

His words touched the soft spot in her heart, and the reality of what had happened to them finally sank in. They were being branded as dopers even though they had done nothing wrong. They were being used as pawns in a global political game. They had already been robbed of their Olympic dream, and the event hadn't even started yet.

A sob tore loose from her throat, and she covered her mouth with her hand. "I hate this," she mumbled into her fingers. A tear slipped down her cheek, cold and bitter.

Vova's stiff posture collapsed, and he rushed over to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. She pressed her face into his chest and inhaled his scent – not the cheap plastic smell of his jacket, but the deeper, warmer, muskier smell of him. He was so much taller than her that he felt like a stone wall, a barrier that could protect her from the insanity outside.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm really, really sorry, Zhenya."

"It's not your fault," she whispered.

"Doesn't matter."

There was a gentle knock on the door, and Katia's red head popped into the room. She was wearing all her Olympic gear – the white jacket, the gray scarf, the knitted hat. As team captain, it was her job to spread the cheer and team spirit, but her smile was tinged with hesitation. She paused in the doorway for a moment before she spoke.

"Hello there," she said. "Are you guys doing okay?"

"We're fine," said Zhenya.

Katia raised an eyebrow at the wet streak running down Zhenya's cheek. "Well, whenever you're ready, the rest of the team is downstairs."

Vova glanced at Zhenya. She nodded.

"We're ready," he said.

Katia's eyes hovered on them, as if doubting this, but she tried to smile. "Take your time. We don't walk until much later in the ceremony. It must be a pain to be the Greeks."

Zhenya laughed, but it caught the lump in her throat, and she coughed to disguise the sob that came out.

"It's okay." Katia laid a hand on her shoulder, her voice soft and gentle. "I think we're all feeling a little upset right now."

Zhenya took a slow, shaky breath. She was sick of pretending anything about this Olympics was normal. She was sick of the wary looks from the other athletes as they saw her white jacket. She was sick of the heavy sighs and the mumbling from the Russian team as they tried to convince themselves that it wasn't so bad.

"Now, now, no more crying," said Katia, cupping Zhenya's chin in her hand. "You're going to be on TV, and all the world is going to see your beautiful face. But you won't look as pretty if your eyes are all puffy." She smiled. "We're all in this together."

"Thanks," Zhenya whispered.

Zhenya and Vova followed Katia down the hallway, where the rest of the team in white jackets was clustered together in a ball of awkward nerves. Natalia and Alexander stood with blank expressions. Kristina and Alexei looked around, as if they weren't sure they were even supposed to be here. Alina kept running her hand through her satiny brown hair while Evgenia looked at her phone. Maria was fixing her makeup in a compact mirror, although it was already perfectly applied. Mikhail was fiddling with the collar of his jacket, Dmitri Aliev just shuffled his feet, and Dima Soloviev stood like a stone column.

Katia cleared her throat, wringing her hands as she addressed them all. "Well, the gang's all here. First of all, I want to congratulate you all for making it this far. Tonight, we are all Olympians."

A halfhearted cheer rumbled through the group.

She sighed. "Unfortunately, this year we have some...unusual circumstances. I think we've all been a little uneasy about this, and I would be lying if I said it has not affected me."

The rest of the team murmured.

"But we will not let politics interfere with our mission here. We are some of the world's best athletes, and we came here to do our best. A white jacket cannot change who we are. No matter what, we are all still Russian, and over the next few weeks, we will make Russia proud."

Vova's huge hand wrapped around Zhenya's small one and squeezed her fingers. She looked up at him, and to her surprise, he was smiling. Not a broad smile of pure joy, but a little smile of hope.

They would always be Russian. And they would always be together.


End file.
